Ravaged
by jewelledhunter
Summary: Edward Cullen was a victim of smallpox. Despite now being a vampire, smallpox scars still linger on his face...This "oneshot" explores the motives of Edward and Bella. AU


AN: I wanted to play with an AU of Twilight, even though I'm not a fan of it. The reason why I'm not an avid fan is because Bella and Edward's relationship was too shallow. Most of this is basically a summary of Midnight Sun. Edward and Bella are…enhanced versions of what they are in Twilight.

* * *

_The human body is a fragile thing, and despite vampire venom's ability to cure most scars and diseases, the ravages of smallpox are too deep for even venom to cure.-Anonymous_

"I can give you something, Edward," he said in his low voice. His breath was cold, sinisterly cold, and yet I could not move. He was…a predator. I was the prey, caught in his gaze, terrified. He laughed softly at my expression. "I'm not here to drink your blood. I…I tried my best for your parents, Edward. You can trust me."

"What will you do?" I hissed. He shrugged his shoulders. He put his medicine bag down and stretched his arms, an awkward-looking motion for him.

"I will make you one of us."

I cringed. His face was suddenly earnest, his topaz eyes wide, his pale lips pinched. He came closer to me, and I looked away from his face, at his white doctor's uniform, anything. "Edward, you might die any day. I've told you about…my kind, only because I believe this might be the only way to save you. And—" his cold fingers were suddenly on my face, tracing my scars. White pustules, red pustules, they were all there, marring my face.

I was ugly.

He was…perfect.

"Your scars. Vampire venom can do much. Perhaps…they will make your scars better," he whispered. "Your mother, Edward, your mother—"

"Do it," I muttered. He seemed to relax, although that was supposed to be impossible for vampires.

"It will be painful," he said. "And the pain will not disappear for a while." I nodded. Then, he grasped my shoulders, and bent his head. Gentle fangs, and then a world of pain.

So I died, in the same room my parents died in.

* * *

Another day in high school. Hell. I glanced at myself in the mirror. The swellings were relentless; they still lingered, like the pimples every other high schooler suffers. Apparently, they were enough to mar any good looks I might have had. All the shallow, stupid girls in the school thought so anyways.

At least, the smallpox scars were not what define me anymore. Well, they still did. But not in the way they used to: people scurrying away when they saw me, my parents, raising me isolated in their home, fearing the reaction of the neighbors when they saw my appearance. I always had looked like someone still carrying smallpox. Now…pimples seem like such a shallow worry.

_You're still so vain,_ Jasper thought as he waited by the door.

"Vain?" I said aloud. "Jazz, it's part of my life." I turned back towards him and noted his appearance, already familiar to me as if he were my true brother. The golden hair, the faint scars on his arms and face. He grinned roguishly, something rather out-of-character. "It's bad enough that I have you, the dark, smoldering brother," I muttered.

_Enough talk. There's new blood._

"You've better not be talking about humans," I said as we left the bathroom, emerging in the cafeteria. There it was, the dominating scent of human food: foul stuff. Beans that had been to places that most students wouldn't want to know was on the menu.

_The new girl, _there was a relish in Jasper's voice that was…worrying.

_Edward,_ Alice's voice was sharp in my voice. _He's losing it._

I sat down next to Alice, Jasper sitting on her other side. "We should be doing this," I muttered. "Building up his strength. He just can't."

_--pulling back her brown hair, exposing that pale neck. The green veins stood out sharply against the rest of her skin. Fingers tracing them, lingering over them, followed by gentle fangs—_

"Jasper," I hissed. He opened his eyes, looking bored, but his eyes were dark now.

"She's interesting," Jasper said.

I turn towards her, unconsciously allowing people around her to stream thoughts, like some unabated flood. Overwhelming. Jessica Stanley's voice was the highest, wondering why Newton liked her so much. Few thoughts of intelligence.

But there was a gap in that flow. No new voice. No voice that screamed "Isabella Swan". I opened my eyes. There she was: I had seen her well in Jasper's…fantasy. She turned towards me, her eyes sliding right over my face, to land on Jasper.

_Well, she has good taste,_ Jessica's voice said smugly. _Edward evidently has issues: those _spots_ on his face, if they could even be called spots. I mean, hello, you have two perfect brothers and you can't even take care of your face? _

I closed my eyes, trying to calm my non-beating heart. Opening my eyes again, I saw Bella's cheeks flush. Jasper turned back towards me, his eyes wide. _What?_ he thought.

* * *

Everything was nicely dark when I wrapped my arms around my head. Peaceful. Somehow the physical action made it easier to ignore the shrills of hormonal teenagers as they streamed into the Biology classroom. It felt familiar, somehow. Maybe it was similar to sleep.

--_Bella might sit next to me_.

The new girl. Again. I was getting sick of hearing her name. Perhaps she _was_ more delicate-looking than other girls around, but still.

Three pairs of footsteps through the door, two of them thinking about the Swan girl.

--_She's walking right next to me! Me!_

_-- She seems pretty nice. _

Blank.

She was just a blank. The idea that this human's brain was impenetrable broke through my stupor and I sat up, almost like a human reflex.

Her smell blasted me, pawing at my throat, and it was as if my throat had caught on fire. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe, or some weak imitation of it, tried to get rid of the scent. Fire. She turned, her hair flying into the air. It didn't help that somewhere, Jasper had seen another…desirable human. His thoughts were a mere blur to me at this distance, but I could feel his hunger.

_Jasper,_ I thought. But it was just a thought. No use.

She was there, waiting, just waiting for fangs—

She sat down next to me, timidly pushing books away. I pulled them toward me, closing my eyes again. Mr. Banner's voice was a blur.

"Your name is," she said; her voice was small, quiet.

"Edward Cullen," I said roughly, through my throat's pain. "You?"

"Bella Swan," she whispered, still not daring to look at me. Or so I guessed.

The class passed in the blur; I could only feel the surge of venom, rising over and over, like a tidal wave that I had to endure. And she sat there, her mind a blank for me, just _sitting there_. Didn't she realize the danger?

Then, about halfway through the class, she asked, so bravely, so tactlessly, "What are the spots on your face?" I raised a hand to my face, tracing the smallpox scars.

"Scars," I muttered.

* * *

And her blood infuriated me. Constantly, she was there, everyday, and worst of all, she worshipped Jasper, worshipped him with a fervor that scared my family. Soon, her life was taken up by him; Jasper was amused, Alice, not so much.

And he just played with her feelings.

"She'd fall for anything," he said, his voice awed, as I moodily pounded notes out on the piano in no particular order. "She's…she's_…_I don't know. I could bite her and she would die of ecstasy. I could drink her blood and she would be so happy it wouldn't be painful."

The keys tinkle out a tune that is not a tune at all. I trace the edges of the keys.

"You could stop playing with her," Alice said, almost testily. "She wouldn't be like this if you weren't playing with her."

She was rather paler these days and I didn't need to read her mind in order to know the way she obsessed over Jasper. His good looks. His kindness. At least she didn't know that he had trained newborns. And she couldn't see the scars all over his body from the bites of newborns.

Suddenly, I jerked my hand across the piano; the notes ascended, shrilly, one after another, a terrible symphony. Jasper and Alice looked up from their game of chess.

"I'm already going to lose this game," Jasper said coolly. "You don't have to throw a temper tantrum in front of me."

"Why you?" I said. Alice set down the rook and looked at me, her face calm. "Why is it you? What twist of fate allowed _you_ to be the one that she loves?"

"Loves?" Jasper echoed, that twisted smile on his face again. "She doesn't love me. It's _lust_. Lust after what she doesn't understand. And I daresay you are the same."

And although he never said it, he didn't bother to conceal your thoughts. _You can't read her mind. You want to control her, you don't want this uncertainty. Every other human's mind is available to you except for her's…she's the only free agent and you can't stand that--_

"Stop!"

He looked at me, searchingly, acting like the older brother he was. His eyes were dark.

"I've seen it before," he said, his fingers closing over a pawn. "The prey idea. You have to prey on her. She smells good. And she's an enigma. Newborns tend to do it more, but there are some idiots who waste their time," even though Jasper had only recently abstained from humans, I could hear the distaste in his voice, "who _hunt_. Like animals, just to drink some blood, not to find new talent like Maria did. Idiots. They demean themselves."

"And what are you suggesting?"

There was no need for me to even ask. His thoughts were obvious.

Well, he must have felt the anger I felt as I stalked out of the house.

* * *

Her smell was intoxicating. Easy to find, even in the humid air. Here. She had brushed against a tree. Her footsteps, through there, past that shop. Mike Newton was gone now; he had gone left while she had continued ahead.

I followed the scent.

Naturally, it led to Chief Swan's house. Not surprising. But there was still that…thrill. Not of adrenaline, since I had no blood to convey the adrenaline, but there was the primeval excitement.

I crawled up to her window; with each step, I felt guilt, disgust…I was the predator. A stalker.

I opened the window carefully, wincing every time it creaked. She was just lying there, tangled in her blankets, white earbuds still in her ears. The wires were tangled around her neck, looking like a high-tech noose. She tossed even as I perched on the window, muttering something.

I froze.

I hadn't been paying attention before, but now, I stepped off the window, into her room, feeling more and more like a predator.

"Jasper," she whispered, and then she turned in her bed again, the wires of her headphones cutting deeper into her neck.

Something like bile seemed to rise in my throat at the sound of Jasper's name. It was always Jasper, always Jasper…

What did she know about us? What did she know about Jasper? Her human eyes probably could not immediately see the scars that were like tattoos on Jasper's body.

Why was I here? I couldn't even remember.

I scrambled to leave, noting that even then, I didn't make a sound. I shut the window and then leapt down. There was no time to ponder how I managed this. Then, with barely a sound, I ran back to my house, feeling guilt follow me every step of the way.

* * *

We arrived at school early that morning. Rosalie was bickering with Emmett about wanting to bring her own car to school, and Emmett patiently explaining (which was rather strange of him) that we had to be subtle, even though driving Porsches wasn't exactly subtle…

I got out of the car and Alice got out of the car right after I did. It seemed cold; the humans all wore thicker coats than usual and I could hear some people's thoughts about how the Cullens seemed to think coats were for lesser people.

Her scent was less potent in the cold air. Bella got out of the large bulky truck, stooping down by the wheels. She stood there, bent over the wheels, for a few second, and then, touched the snow chains on the wheel.

Her mind was still a blank.

Then, Alice gasped and everything played out in my head, a few seconds ahead of what was happening before my eyes, and everything became instinct. I ran towards her, skirting around teenagers and cars, and I collided against Bella. A soft gasp. Her smell was still strong; venom pooled in my mouth, but then Alice's vision was still going, going, and the van spun around a few seconds after the van in Alice's vision. I threw out my hands.

The van stopped.

Her body shook against mine, and I turned towards her. Her eyes were closed, her eyelashes sticking together with what looked like tears.

Perhaps she was unconscious. Somehow, holding her in my arms seemed wrong, like a lion holding his prey in his teeth after the kill.

"Is she all right, Edward?" Mike Newton. I nodded and he moved around me towards her.

"What's going on?" Suddenly, Bella was awake, her eyes wide. She sat up quickly and I recoiled, her scent pouring towards me. "Where's Jasper?"

Silence. Mike stared at Bella.

"Jasper is over there," Mike pointed to the other side of the parking lot. I could hear Emmett, Alice, Jasper, and Rosalie's thoughts. They weren't exactly kind, except for Alice, who frankly didn't seem to care.

Bella wrinkled her nose. "Then who saved me?"

"Edward, of course," Mike glanced at me and I kept my face carefully neutral, even though I could hear his thoughts.

_What did she want? Jasper Cullen? It's obvious she can't have Jasper, not when he has Alice…Perhaps she's just that selfish…I never thought of her that way. _

"Somebody's called the hospital; people are coming, Bella," Mike said. "You all right? Did you hit your head?"

She shook her head, and then winced. Mike snorted.

"Yeah, you were hurt," and then the sirens started to scream nearby. I stood up and left Mike Newton to take care of Bella. Clearly, Swan didn't want me around.

* * *

I didn't see why everyone was fussing about Isabella Swan. Even Mike Newton, once her faithful dog, had started to think worse of her. I could hear it in his thoughts and Bella had the wit to act confused that he no longer felt the need to open every door for her.

Returning to Biology was like torture.

"Edward Cullen," she said.

"I'm glad you know my name, Isabella," I said.

"I just want to know _how_ you managed to save me," she said through gritted teeth. I smiled, thinly.

"I was standing there, Isabella—"

"Bella."

"Isabella," I continued. "I pushed you out of the way."

"You were standing with Jasper," there she goes again, Jasper, always Jasper. "And then you were besides me instantly."

Despite feeling my throat burn, I leaned towards her, smiling in a way that showed my teeth. No fangs, but the threat was still there. I could see her throat move. She had gulped.

"Aren't you happy to be alive and not roadkill on Tyler's van?"

"Yes, but—"

"Be grateful, Isabella Swan. Be grateful you're alive."

"Why won't you tell me? You and Jasper, and the others in your family, you're _different_."

"Why don't you ask Jasper, if your thoughts seem to be on him all the time?"

"Perhaps it's because he's easier to look at than you are."

I closed my eyes at her words. Shallow. What type of person was she? She judged based on appearances. If she could only see Jasper, his scars, that strange smile that appeared on his face sometimes when something reminded him of his Southern past. I opened my eyes again. She was staring at me with wide eyes.

It struck me how pretty she was. Just like we were. She was …a person to be avoided, concealed in an appealing face. I backed away from her, leaning back on my chair casually. I felt one of my scars on my face, almost absentmindedly, and I could feel her eyes on my fingers.

"You have no idea, Isabella," I murmured. "No idea what you are talking about."

* * *

AN: I'm not sure if I'm going to be flamed or not. Frankly, I don't care.


End file.
